


the thought that counts

by thepromiseimadetoyou



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Aperture is not equipped for holidays, Christmas, Gen, Holiday Shenanigans, Portal Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 01:06:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5723764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepromiseimadetoyou/pseuds/thepromiseimadetoyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's all wrong, but on a base level she can see the intent. He just misunderstood as he always does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the thought that counts

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Portal Secret Santa gift for Pinalinet on Tumblr. Merry late Christmas!

A large turret atop a platform above an incinerator, a 'Happy [Holiday Name Here]' sign, something vaguely tree-shaped made of broken panels and plants, Wheatley tangled in a string of dusty tinsel, and a group of turrets humming mildly familiar carols. The only thought running through her mind at the sight is a confused wondering of what weird version of Christmas he's trying to recreate...

Looking over every little detail doesn't make it any less chaotic. Though it does bring to her attention just how much effort he must have put into setting it up. It's all wrong, but on a base level she can see the intent. He just misunderstood as he always does.

His optic plates are arranged into what she's come to know as the 'smile formation' as he rapidly looks between his holiday setup and her. “So whadd'ya think? It's great, right? I know, I know, big surprise Wheatley settin' up for a human holiday! But I found loads of old emails still in the servers. Back from the old days of staff actually, y'know, working here. Stuff talkin' 'bout somethin' called Christmas.”

She can tell where this ramble is leading. He tried to figure out the Christmas traditions from emails alone without any-

“-context, so I tried my best. Turned out pretty good if I do say so myself.”

She jabs a thumb at the large turret on the platform positioned over an incinerator tube.

Wheatley's faceplate moves side to side, shifting the tinsel. “Oh she's fine. Agreed to be our makeshift Santa. All the facility's chimneys just vent the big ol' fire room so we agreed on this instead.”

The turret makes a humming sound in confirmation.

**“Although it isn't a proper Christmas until Santa comes down the chimney.** **Wouldn't it be interesting if the fireplace was on when he arrived? I vote we drop the turret and see how it turns out. For science.”**

At those words she yanks the turret from the platform just before GlaDOS removes it. The turret hums again when she sets it down with the other normal-size ones.

**“Why must you ruin every experiment I try? Do you enjoy frustrating me? Well, two can play at that game.”**

A claw descends from the ceiling with an old and tattered Santa hat. She ducks and rolls out of the way as the claw drops it.

“W'sat supposed to be?” Wheatley asks from above.

She inspects the hat via her portal gun, and after deeming it safe to touch she puts it on. Oh wow. She hasn't worn one of these since she was a child. She barely remembers that last Christmas with her family.

Wheatley shakes her out of her faded memories by talking. She looks up at the core, blinks, and waits for him to repeat himself. It doesn't take long.

“So... you might actually have worse brain damage than I thought. You didn't-you didn't hear a word I said did you?”

She shakes her head no.

His faceplate lowers followed by a simulated sigh. “Right. Okay then. Not a problem. I _said_ , now that Santa has arrived,” The large turret hums again. “we can begin the gifting ceremony. Oh, wait, forgot 'bout those actually. Be right back.”

He speeds off on his management rail, flexing his handles in an attempt to get the tinsel to fall off as he goes.

**“Good, the moron is gone. If we're lucky he'll stay that way. You know, you actually look quite good in that hat. Perhaps you're related to Santa Claus? You're both large people who seem to enjoy sneaking around in other people's homes. No, you're different. At least** _**he** _ **leaves gifts.”**

She scowls at the security camera and removes the hat.

Wheatley comes back mere moments later, tinsel half-removed and trailing behind him. Balanced precariously on his raised bottom handle is a can of something. How he managed to get it there is a mystery.

He deposits it before her by lowering his handle. She just barely catches it. The label reads 'beans' and she recognizes it from the artist's hideouts.

“I would wrap it, all those emails mentioned wrapping of some kind, but you know–haven't got any limbs.”

For a brief moment he's quiet as she stares. He's got the setup all wrong and doesn't seem to know what the 'tree' is for -no gifts under it whatsoever- but it does warm her heart that he gets the concept of gifting. It humanizes him a bit more. She smiles up at him to show thanks for his gift. Food is always appreciated.

“Ah, good. Good. You like it then, lovely. Ooh, there was a phrase I'm s'posed to say, can't remember what it was... Hold on a sec' while I check my memory banks.”

**“Try reading for once in your life. It's right on the sign you asked me to hang up. Unless you can't read. In which case you truly are a moron.”**

Wheatley shifts his optic up to the security camera and scowls. “ _I am not a moron!_ I only asked 'cause again, we've discussed this, no limbs. Pretty sure you're just pullin' my leg here with your sign. Never should've asked.”

She rereads the sign. 'Happy [Holiday Name Here]' does fit Aperture's mentality with holidays, and probably GlaDOS' too. It hadn't occurred to her until now who had hung the sign. He _asked_ Her for a favor...?

**“But you did. And we agreed. I hung the sign and now you have to stop talking for the day.”**

“Ah ah ah, pulled one over on _you_ this time! Said 'a day' not 'the day'. I'll do it tomorrow. Now,” he turns back around to face her again, more of the tinsel slowly falling off. “Correct me if I'm wrong, prolly am but you never know, but doesn't the gifting ceremony involve everyone? You owe a gift, luv.”

She sets her can on the floor near the hat and reaches up toward the core, taking a fistful of trailing tinsel. A hard yank and Wheatley spins in place as it all unravels in her arms.

Once free of the tinsel he recalibrates his balance, flexes his handles, and smiles at her. “Thanks! Oh that was your gift wasn't it? Isn't it–no never mind. Was real nice of you to do that. Thanks. Happy Christmas? No that can't be it. Doesn't sound right. Doesn't roll off the tongue like it's s'posed to.”

**“So where's my gift? I think I deserve a show of kindness after everything I've done for you.”**

She picks up and fires her portal gun in two places along the wall, successfully removing the security camera.

**“I have plenty of other cameras you know.”**

A smirk.

Wheatley excitedly speaks up in her stead. “Oh! Oh! That's a phrase I do know! It's the thought that counts.”

A simulated sigh echoes over the intercom. **“Why do I even bother?”**

 

 

 

 


End file.
